An Occurrence at Malfoy Manor
by Nokomiss
Summary: Illicit liaisons, jealousy and violence disintegrate a new marriage.


An Occurrence at Malfoy Manor

  


Disclaimer: JKR owns the Harry Potter universe and all characters in it.

  


AN: Thanks to Rainpuddle for beta'ing, and thanks to La Guera, who I stole a bunny from and ran with it. And yes, this is supposed to feel like an old gothic romance novel.

  


**

  
  


She left their rooms at night, leaving her husband to sleep alone as she wandered through her new home.

  


She liked to sweep through the hallowed halls of Malfoy Manor, allowing her long nightgown to trace slithering, snakelike patterns in the dust that collected in the darkened, abandoned rooms. She had always assumed that the house-elves had scrubbed every nook and cranny of the massive house til it shone, but it turned out that even the Malfoys had dusty rooms in their home.

  


She did not yet identify herself as one of them, despite the expensive ring on her finger that proclaimed otherwise.

  


Tonight, though, she was not as alone as she would have liked. She had heard his footsteps following her since she had passed by the parlor. She hadn't altered her course any, just heading deep into the east wing. He caught up with her just outside of a portrait of a woman who might have been his mother or his great-great-grandmother.

  


"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," she said in a vain attempt at nonchalance.

  


"Young Mrs. Malfoy," he replied. "I've noticed that you are often the little insomniac."

  


"I-" she began, wondering why she wanted to protest something they both knew was true. "I just like to take midnight strolls, and it gets chilly outside."

  


"We wouldn't want you to catch," he ran a finger along her sleeved arm, "a chill, now would we?"

  


"N-no," she said, taking a half-step back nervously. She hadn't been completely ignorant to the glances her father-in-law had been giving her at dinner these past few months, but she had never dreamed that he would ever act upon his urges.

  


He made up for her step back with two steps forward of his own, leaving very little space between them. She shifted uncomfortably, and felt more and more awkward as he touched her hair.

  


"You really are a lovely girl," he said, letting his hand drop slowly from her hair, grazing her breast before it settled at his side. She shivered, quickly trying to take another step back, only to hit her ankle on a baseboard with a dull thud.

  


"Oh!" she exclaimed. 

  


He knelt before her, lifting the ankle she had hit, and caressing it gently. 

  


"There's nothing wrong here," he said, sliding his hand up her leg.

  


"Oh," she said again, weakly. He leaned in, and just before his lips made their inevitable descent to hers he whispered, "Nothing at all."

  


*

  


Later, as she hurried through the halls back to her slumbering husband, she felt a twinge of guilt over her indiscretion. Could she just return to her marriage bed after her delicious sinning of only minutes before?

  


She slid the door open carefully, entering her bedroom.

  


"Is that you?" her husband mumbled sleepily.

  


"Y-yes," she replied quickly.

  


"Couldn't sleep again?" 

  


"No, I took a walk," she said, then added, "Just around the halls."

  


"Enough of 'em," grumbled her husband into his pillow. "You coming?"

  


Guilt again. "Yeah," she replied, and climbed gracelessly into bed, tangling the sheets and elbowing her husband in the nose. "Sorry, sorry!" she said.

  


"What's wrong with you, woman?" snapped her husband, shoving at his white-blond hair as though it had just elbowed his nose.

  


"I'm just... tired," she said weakly, turning away from him. "Very tired."

  


She felt eyes on her back for a long while before sleep finally claimed her.

  


*

  


The next morning, she woke to an empty bed. She quickly dressed, and hurried into the hall. Her husband always slept later than she. Something highly unusual had to have happened. She could hear voices echoing out of her father-in-law's study, so she made her way silently closer so she could make out the words.

  


"I can't believe you," her husband was saying in a low, dangerous voice.

  


Her father-in-law spoke loftily in reply, "There's nothing to _believe_, boy. Run along."

  


"I'm not a child!" snapped her husband. "You shouldn't have lain a hand on my wife!"

  


"Put that down," replied her father-in-law. "There's no need to get testy. She isn't that great a prize."

  


"That isn't the point," replied her husband. She felt a slight surge of anger at his words. He didn't feel the need to argue with his father that she was indeed a prize?

  


"And don't think about trying to dissuade her of any future actions, either, boy," continued her father-in-law. "I don't want to see any marks on her until I'm done with her."

  


"She's _mine_," whined her husband. "Can't you find your own girls to cavort with?"

  


"I did," was her father-in-law's icy reply.

  


She pressed herself up against the wall, hoping not to be seen, as her husband stormed out of the study. Unfortunately, her white nightgown starkly contrasted with the dark paneling of the hall.

  


"Come on," snarled her husband, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging her along as he continued his rampaging tantrum down the hallway.

  


"Not a single mark!" she heard her father-in-law call after them before the door to the study clicked closed. She had caught a glimpse at his angry form as he clenched his cane- the snake head had to have been digging into his palm painfully.

  


Her husband stopped abruptly outside the door to their room, and said, "Are you going to run?"

  


She mutely shook her head.

  


He let go of her hand, opening the door, before motioning for her to enter their bedroom, which suddenly looked looming and ominous. Not even on that first, titillating and terrifying night of their union had it looked so menacing.

  


"What the hell did you think you were doing with my _father_?" he hissed at her. She rubbed at her wrist, which was sore but unmarked, and shrugged.

  


He shoved her, gently enough that she didn't stumble, but the threat in the motion was real enough.

  


"I wasn't thinking!" she sputtered. Fear was racing through her veins, and regret, and the knowledge that she was only a wife, something easily enough replaced with her husband's handsome smile. 

  


"That's right," said her husband, leaning in close. Too close. "You certainly weren't. And now- now you get to be my father's plaything, until he becomes tired of you. Bored of you."

  


She took a step back, and the back of her knees hit the bed. Her husband still advanced on her.

  


"Now, because of what you have done, you will not be welcomed at dinner with a honest smile from my mother. She no doubt already knows of Father's indiscretion. You will do as my father tells you, and you will do as I tell you. You have two masters now, instead of one."

  


She sat down on the bed, trying to get more room between her and her husband. She had never seen him in a mood like this, quiet and threatening and more akin to his calculating father than his melodramatic mother. 

  


"And you will obey us both." He had placed a hand on either side of her body, and had now positioned himself between her legs, leaning forward even as she leaned further back, until her back met the bedspread. His lips touched hers, barely, gently, forgiving, and she found herself responding in kind until he pulled away and said to her, "Filthy whore," and shoved her roughly into the mattress.

  


He stood, giving her a disdainful glance. "I will be downstairs having breakfast. I think it would not be in your best interest to join me." With more dignity than should have been possible, considering what he had just done, he left the room.

  


She felt like sobbing, but didn't. She could be strong and brave, since all of this mess was her fault. If she hadn't left her room, she never would have been seduced. Her new family would not be shattered by her illicit actions, and her husband and his father would not have nearly come to duel. 

  


A while later, the door opened and she watched in mute horror as her father-in-law stepped into her bedroom.

  


"No," she said, quietly. "Not again- I can't. It's wrong."

  


"Wrong?" her father-in-law inquired, raising his eyebrow.

  


"Yes," she said, hoping that he would leave. Her hand, hidden beneath her pillow, gripped her wand.

  


"I just stopped by because my wife inquired about your whereabouts this morning," her father-in-law said, scarcely masking his cruel delight at her confusion.

  


"I felt ill," she replied shortly, praying that he would leave without further incident. She was in over her head. She had been ever since the marriage, and moving into this huge house. These people were wicked, and she didn't know how to deal with them half of the time.

  


She had the feeling that she wasn't dealing with them very well at all.

  


*

  


It was a week after the first incident, when she felt secure enough to walk down the hall without glancing back over her shoulder. She suspected her father-in-law had been lurking around every bend of the maze-like halls, but had finally decided, after not spotting him anywhere, that he had forgotten the incident. She suddenly gasped as her father-in-law slid his arm around her waist, and began to lead her in the opposite direction.

  


"I was going to the dining room for lunch with my husband and your wife," she said, struggling against him weakly.

  


"You'll just have to be late," replied her father-in-law as he opened the door to an unused bedroom. "I'm sure that my wife and son will not miss our absence."

  


"I think," she began.

  


"Hush, child, I don't want you to _think_," interrupted her father-in-law. She decided, as her robes fluttered to the floor, that thinking was highly overrated.

  


*

  


"I'm sorry I'm late!" she cried, rushing into the beautiful, airy room where lunch was served. She had hurried there directly after straightening herself up from her latest encounter with her father-in-law.

  


"Really, child, if you can't even be dignified enough to walk into a room, how am I supposed to trust you to manage to behave properly when we have formal dinners?" her mother-in-law said, arching a perfect eyebrow.

  


"I- I didn't want to keep you waiting," she responded. Her mother-in-law had been a little chilly towards her since the first incident, but she hadn't ever been quite so blatant with her disdain before.

  


"Then you shouldn't have been dallying," her mother-in-law said coldly. "Especially not with my husband."

  


She nearly choked. "I wasn't! Dallying, I mean! I have only the utmost respect for you and your husband."

  


"I certainly hope you don't attempt to show me respect like you have with my husband," her mother-in-law replied. 

  


"Where is my husband?" she asked, suddenly noticing his absence.

  


"He went out, dear, with a friend."

  


"Oh," she said, disappointed. 

  


"And while that was a noble effort to change the subject, it didn't work," her mother-in-law continued. "There is still the matter of you playing with fire."

  


"I didn't mean for anything to happen," she began weakly, aware of how pathetic she sounded.

  


"I'm positive," her mother-in-law's voice dripped with venom. "But rest assured, if anything happens again, or perhaps even if it doesn't..."

  


"You won't do anything," she said, confident that her mother-in-law was trying to bluff her into fleeing.

  


Her mother-in-law only smiled.

  


*

  


Her husband was drunk, she knew. He had staggered into their room and had fallen into bed at a positively indecent hour, and kept murmuring, "Candy," in his sleep. 

  


She knew he wasn't talking about sugary confections.

  


He had done similar things on a near-nightly basis ever since his frightening conversation with her two weeks beforehand. She debated on shaking him awake, and admonishing him over his actions, which were completely inappropriate for a wizard of his station, but then had a shivering recollection of her own inappropriate actions. 

  


She had no right to lecture.

  


She curled up as close to the edge of her side of the bed as possible, and stared into the shadows until sleep overcame her.

  


*

  


"I told you to not harm her until I was done with her," her father-in-law said in a low voice. She stopped short, knowing that eavesdropping was wrong and unladylike but giving into temptation anyway. She was getting good at giving in.

  


"I didn't harm her," replied her husband.

  


"She looked terrible when I saw her," said her father-in-law testily.

  


"Her own doing, I'm afraid." How could her husband sound so cavalier? 

  


"Her own doing?" Her father-in-law sounded as though he suspected his son of playing some sort of trick on him.

  


"She cried half the night. I had a terrible time sleeping through it. Apparently, she was never taught proper refreshing spells, which is why she looks like hell warmed over."

  


"And why was your wife crying?" 

  


"I really don't know- I was out until late," replied her husband. He had admitted it so blatantly to his own father? Then, his father had also admitted his indiscretions without a second thought. 

  


"You were out," her father-in-law said.

  


"Yes. I decided that I needed to find myself some companionship that had not been sullied by you," replied her husband. He _had_ been gallivanting around with other women! Women named Candy, who undoubtedly were hired by the hour and were the epitome of loose morality!

  


"I see," he said.

  


"No, you don't," replied her husband. "I don't care about _her_ anymore. Congratulations, you managed to prove yourself right."

  


"You knew I would," replied her father-in-law. She had no clue what they were talking about. Had this all been a game? Had she been manipulated and seduced to prove a point to her husband?

  


"Yes. I give in. Next time, I will marry someone that you deem _worthy_." Only her husband could sound so contemptuous while submitting to someone else's will.

  


"I knew you would see things my way, eventually. I am finished with your wife now," her father-in-law said. "She can stop lurking around the corner now."

  


It took a moment before she realized that she had been directly addressed.

  


"Oh!" she said, stepping into the room and going to her husband's side. "I didn't mean--"

  


"No, you never do," said her husband.

  


"She hasn't owned up to her actions once in my presence," her father-in-law agreed.

  


"Same here," her husband said. She was aware, suddenly, of how similar father and son were, as her father-in-law stepped up closer, both looking down on her, devilish smiles on their pale faces.

  


"I-I told you I was sorry," she said, stepping back.

  


"Did you?" her husband said, drawing his wand from his robes. "I don't recall."

  


"I think I did," she said, stepping back again and catching her heel in her nightgown, falling hard. She stared up at the men as she attempted to stand, scoot, anything to get away from them. They were dangerous, she knew. She had known the tales before she had even agreed to marry into the illustrious family.

  


"You are a sly girl, trying to break apart family dynamics like this," her father-in-law said, leveling his wand at her. 

  


"But-but I didn't! I wasn't trying to do anything at all! You-you were the one--"

  


"Nonsense!"said her husband, a wicked grin on his face. "Do you think we'd believe what you say?"

  


"You can't do this!" she cried. "You'll get caught!"

  


"Will we?" her husband said, pulling up a hood over his face. His father did as well, and a moment later a third hooded figure swept into the room.

  


"I don't understand," she said. "Why are you dressed like Death Eaters?"

  


"It will be a terrible tragedy," said the third hooded figure in a lilting voice that she recognized as her mother-in-law's. "Death Eaters attacking our very home, while we're out having dinner in London, killing our son's lovely young bitch of a wife."

  


"But you're here!" she said, trying to stand but discovering that her ankle had twisted and was unable to support her weight.

  


"No, we aren't," said her husband.

  


"Polyjuice is a deadly useful potion, you know," said her father-in-law.

  


"It's such a stroke of luck that we know a potions master intimately," said her mother-in-law.

  


She was suddenly happy she couldn't see their faces. She wasn't sure she could handle seeing those beautiful features of her family twisted with the delight that she heard in their voices.

  


"Good night, sweet girl," her father-in-law said.

  


"Rest in peace," her husband whispered.

  


Her mother-in-law said something, too, but it was lost in the flash of green light.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
